Friend
by Nymredil72
Summary: Our time here shall soon be spent, so soon, before I can pry open my soul and words and tears come tumbling forth in raging torrents, churning and blending until they become who you are, as you sit before me now, and as you shall never be again. R
1. River of Fire

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters of LotR.  
  
Author's note: Despite what some may think, ::sticks out tongue at Sigil Galen:: (just joking, don't worry) I am not very new to Tolkien, and this is supposed to be book-verse, not movie-verse. Yes, it is Frodo and Sam sitting on the hill surrounded by the fires of Mt. Doom, but this is how I pictured the scene to be before I saw RotK. I'm too lazy to go get my book, but I believe there is a quote saying something like "It (the hill) was an island now, not long to survive." So, I am not quite sure where you got the impression that I am entirely new to Tolkien, Sigil. If I made a careless error, which I have stupidly failed to note, please tell me, because I don't want to look like an idiot. I know that Tolkien never wrote about what Frodo was thinking at this time, and only provided a brief glance at Sam's feelings, but that is the reason I wrote this fic. I thought that it gave the scene a fresh perspective. My writing style is a little flowery, I shall admit, but I was trying to, in a way, capture the way that his mind was wandering, almost in a slight panic, because he and his friend were about to die, or so he thought. I was not trying to imitate Tolkien's style in the least, for it would have been impossible with a fic like this. He very rarely provided detailed glimpses at what the characters were thinking and feeling, instead allowing the readers to draw independent conclusions, so the very premise of this fic, I shall admit, was a violation of his personal style. Be that as it may, this is NOT slash, and I still believe that this fic does not stray from Tolkien canon. So don't pounce on me! ::evil grin::  
  
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Sam, how is it that I have just now come to realize that, when you are afraid, you wring your hands, as if you do no know what to do with them? And that then, when you notice my glance, you cast your eyes to the ground, and then you look upon me, not quite meeting my gaze, and smile? But this smile, it is only a ghost, a fleeting vision of what will soon ever cease to be.  
  
So soon, Sam, your eyes shall never go alight when I speak a loving word, and creases of mirth shall never again from beside them spread like ripples in a shimmering pond, alive with sunlight and the joy of day. If I spoke your praise, would you again play with the loose threads upon your frayed shirt, and stare intently at your feet as they make swirling patterns in the dust?  
  
And to think that I shall follow you into whatever abyss awaits my despairing heart! That I should leave this Earth before I could pull from the depths of my mind the words to tell you what you have meant over these spanning years we have had, now coming to an end in this one, final doom!  
  
Our time here shall soon be spent, so soon, before I can pry open my soul and words and tears come tumbling forth in raging torrents, churning and blending until they become who you are, as you sit before me now, and as you shall never be again.  
  
I wonder, Sam, will towers shatter like splintered glass and mountains crumble to sullied dust when you are consumed by the awaiting fires, lapping greedily at our very heels, caring not that the body which they shall set alight has shielded me from shining blade and borne me to my salvation and my doom?  
  
You will rest in no kingly hall, in a quiet sleep in the silent company of your kin. No mockery of your warm smile will be set into some cold, unfamiliar stone, for the world to look upon and so soon turn from to return to their ever-shortening lives.  
  
We are so small, Sam, compared to the world, and yet it was thrust upon our shoulders, for us to bear away from the consuming fires of some bestial will. And so, we set it down upon the shores of life, and then it forgot us, and left us to perish in that from which it was saved.  
  
I try to grab a hold the reins of Time so I can lie here and hear your sweet voice forevermore. So I can sit and trace the creases in your brown hands, that have done such deeds. But try as I may, they slip from between my clumsy, sullied fingers, as easily as sand from the shores we shall never ourselves reach. They slip, until I hold but a single grain, soon to melt in the fires of the setting sun.  
  
Your sweet head droops, now, upon my shoulder, but this last burden I can bear. I shall follow you now, to weary sleep and blissful blindness to the horrors set now before my eyes. I shall drown in the waters of peace before the fires of rage I allow to take me.  
  
I am glad you are with me. Friend. 


	2. Into the West

Author's Note: This is a continuation of the first chapter, although it is about Frodo going to the Undying Lands, namely because when Frodo says "that terrible day," he is referring to where they are in the first chapter, surrounded by the fires of Mt. Doom. So please: read, enjoy, and REVIEW!  
  
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This is indeed a cruel end, and I curse the One who devised it! Who set me before this road; its inevitable turns, that lead me to the sea. He bid me sail, and I could not, for all my will, deny Him what He demanded of me. And thus, He held me captive upon this ship, binding me to it with the chains of my guilt, and wound them about me; this woe that I gave unto myself!  
  
Of course, His design was a subtle one, and one that I could not escape for all my cunning. 'Twas a curse, that did not so much bite as blind me, one that I could not feel and was yet ever-present, a shadow left to hover above my soul. How long was it, I wonder, before I began to feel that slow, empty despair wash over me, like the tide, and pull me into the raging sea?  
  
In a silent chamber, adorned with memories, I would sit, and let my wounds bleed torrents of ink, cunningly shaping themselves into words of despair. And then, when my life's blood was spilt upon the pages of the world, and all my love was spent, I was left alone, an empty shell of the past, a ghost of some forgotten realm left to haunt you.  
  
And, as a ghost, I felt nothing, save the anguish set on my heart, weighing it down with hate and doubts. But the sun, shine as it might, froze as it touched my flesh. Neither the breeze nor you could caress me, or set me on the path that lead me home, rather than some destination on the stormy seas. All your words fell silent on my ears, made deaf by malice towards the sullied Earth.  
  
But the worst, the worst was that I could now see the world for what it was, and the pain of that knowledge rendered me helpless! I saw the trees, yes, in their disheveled loveliness, but I saw as well across the spanning of the years to when they would crack and dry, leaves shining emerald no longer in the sunny glade. And then, the mosses and the grasses would overtake them, and raze them to the ground, their beauty a mere shadow of what was. I saw the lands that we tread upon fall under the tide, as the waters retook what was once theirs. All of our destinies lie with the sea, but I shall sail my course now, and not wait for Time to bend me, in His dreadful malice, to his will.  
  
That terrible day, Sam, I began to understand the way of the world. I saw Death touch your face with his wilting hand and pass you by. But I know, you will not long escape his gaze, and that soon you will pass into his realm and be forgotten. Your laughter, your shy brown eyes, and your quiet wisdom will be lost to the world. And now, when I gaze upon you, laboring amongst the flowers on a warm spring day, humming a meaningless tune to be lost on the scattering wind, I see what I will lose.  
  
Across the awaiting sea, Sam, lie the Lands that do not die. Surely, I will fade from them and pass into memory, but no longer will I have this sensation that the world around me is slipping from my grasp, and be trusted alone with this dreadful understanding of our blessing and our bane.  
  
I bound myself to you long ago. Not with iron chains or biting rope, but with the course thread that I myself wove when I let tumble forth my strings of loving words. I called you my dearest friend, and it was the truth I spoke, and once I myself intertwined our fates, I could not undo the impossible knot which I had tied, not even for your own sake.  
  
So now, you see, I am bound both to land and sea. I will hurt you no more, no longer rip you in half with my selfish wants. It is I, now, who will be torn in two, between love of you and longing for sight of the Undying Lands.  
  
But no longer shall I mourn for what will inevitably be lost. Perhaps, one day, you too will pass over the sea, and I will be allowed to, one last time, look upon you with my mortal eyes. But if not, still I shall not allow Despair to take me! For one day, we will both pass, not only beyond the waters, but beyond the circles of the world, to an awaiting paradise where all that is green and good shall not fade, and Time shall not sully your golden hair with silver, and draw lines of worry on your innocent face.  
  
So do not let the darkness of the sea wash the joy from your heart, for we shall meet again, in this world or the next. 


	3. Shadow

Author's Note: I had no more idea than you that there would be another chapter to this fic. I wrote this piece to be a separate fic, but I thought that it fit in very well with this one, in every way. I think that I am going to make this my place to put all of my prosy vignettes about Frodo and Sam's friendship. Thus, it will be updated sporadically, so if you want to know when I write more, you'll have to keep a sharp eye out.  
  
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**Evenstar Elanor**- nope, this is definitely not slash. Nymredil does not write slash. Thank you so much for your kind words about the style. All three of these vignettes started out as poems--- they just didn't work out, and I think that accounts for the strange lyrical style in these pieces. Your writing is much more beautiful than this, though, and I certainly do not rival Tolkien... no mortal can claim to do that.  
  
**Sigil Galen**- hmm... these pieces are definitely much more flowery than my usual work. The way that I'm writing these pieces is following Frodo's thoughts, so they are rather long and rapidly changing. I would like to know why you think I am new to Tolkien. I haven't loved him my entire life, but it's been almost three years since I read the books and I have reread them numerous times since then. I also read The Silmarillion... once... although it wasn't to my liking. These were really pieces that could have taken place in both the movie and book-verses, so I want to know why you think that these were movie characterizations... Did I make a stupid mistake? I'm just curious...  
  
**FrodoBaggins87**- Thank you! I hope you enjoy this next chapter... I don't like it as much as the others, but I think it's alright.  
  
**Socrates399**- you flatter me! BTW, your "one pathetic story" was amazing! You should really post something else soon, because you are very talented!  
  
**Laurajslr**- thank you very much! That is the greatest compliment you could ever give me... Yes, I was very fond of that part... I really like writing anything about the days before the quest, because it's so happy. All of the angst is fun to read, but the days of the Shire are assuredly the most enjoyable to write. That line was reckoning back to those pleasant days, and... I dunno, I liked it.  
  
**Crimsondawn**- I've already written to you, sending you my profuse thanks... I'm also really sorry that this took so long to be posted after I got the idea... I've had other things to write, and my muse has been very temperamental these days... I'd like to hire a new one, but that just might cause more trouble.  
  
**Frodo's sister**- ::blushes:: thank you very much.  
  
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**"Shadow"  
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You have become naught but a shadow cast down by the sun to torment me. Where all once was clear, you have drawn black lines of fear in my mind. I once was free, but you would use these lines to contain me, telling me that if I should dare to cross, the consequences would be dire. I have done my best to ignore you, but there you are: the shadow of doubt ever- tracing my steps.  
  
You are much as a bit of rust on a pale band of gold, tarnishing my mind with questions that I do not want to hear, nor to which know the answers. Always you would have me choose the harder road, caring not that you cause me such pain! Why must you always lurk, somewhere nearby, ever reminding me of what I have lost, and what I can never again obtain?  
  
Faded are the words in my dusty book of memory, pages crumbling at my clumsy touch. Eternally lost are the times when you would meld yourself with the day, ever the bearer of joy and hope. No, my friend, you did not blight out the sun! You _were_ the sun, sending forth dazzling rays of hope, and I would bask in your glow, pretending there were no clouds looming in the distance that would take you away from where I could reach you.  
  
Now, in essence, you _are_ a vague cloud on the ever-dimming horizon. At least, you have clouded my vision with obscurities and uncertainties, ever hovering over me and casting me in darkness. O, why was I chosen to be borne so far from the times of old, when the world was a song and the days could be drunk like sweet and pungent wine? Why do I hear naught but accursed shrieks on the wind, instead of the lilting laughter of the breeze? My perception has become dulled, so that with the bestial thoughts in my traitorous mind I would unravel the threads of life's tapestry of splendor and with them create something entirely loathsome and vile!  
  
How might I rid myself of you, you accursed shadow? How might I prevent you from dogging my steps with foolish persistence, so that you might tell me that my every desire is for ill? For the only way that I can fathom would be to stretch a curtain of ebony across the sun, and such an action would be inconceivable!  
  
At this thought, all of my musings are thrown into a new and wondrous light, in spite of your sable cloak. You, as a shadow, are a creation of the sun; you were crafted by the rays of hope, in all their glory. Truly, you are an angel of the light, flown down from the radiant heavens to guide me away from all paths ever laden with twilight. It is I who have become a creature of the ebon night! I create this cloud of gloom in which I have lost myself by denying all that you hold dear and rejecting the hope to which you so desperately cleave. All that was evil which I perceived in you was a mere reflection of myself created my your dancing eyes. How could I have maligned you with my bitter words?  
  
My dear Sam, you are indeed my shadow. You have followed me to the ends of this world, through water, dust, and fire, breathing with me the poisoned air of this wicked land. You have bound yourself to me, never questioning to what end I shall lead you. I only wish that you did not have to share in my evil fate, though your only wish is to perish at my side.  
  
You chose to become my shadow, Sam, a decision I shall forever rue but never fathom. Must it be this way, my friend? Must you trod on this cruel road?  
  
My appointed path is one without hope or light, and yet you stumble on! All has become painfully clear and I see now that I was mistaken, for you are no shadow. We have past beyond the lands where shine the sun, where hope can be kindled. By all rights I should be alone, but here you are, my constant companion through all grief, tears, and sorrows.  
  
O, Sam, dearest of all hobbits, how could I have thought you my shadow? For a shadow could not carry me.

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Please review! I love you, I love you, I love you, so PLEASE review!!! And... ::makes evil **!i!i!**about to plug herself**!i!i!** face:: please check out all my other fics, 'cause I know you'll love 'em! That is all, my lovely readers. Thank you for taking the time to read this fic.

Toodles!

---Nymredil


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